All language subtitles for The Browning Version (Mike Figgis, 1994).english

Hurry up. We're late.

Mr. Gilbert?

Yes. Good morning.

We thought you might have
caught the earlier train, sir.

Yes, well, I did,
but it was late,

and getting a taxi wasn't easy.

Allow me.

The Historic Hall.

Built, 1550.

Destroyed by fire, rebuilt 1732.

Restored, 1874.

It's very beautiful.

Great Chapel.

Built in the year 13...

Sorry.

Wilson, you're late.

Yeah, but I'm not really late.

I don't care.
Three minutes late, Wilson.

Cromwell's.

Write it down tomorrow?

Today.

Any boy late
for the morning prayers

is given Cromwell's,

which is the word here
for punishment.

Why?

If you ask me why
it's called "Cromwell's,"

I'll say, "'Y' is
a crooked letter

and you can't make it straight."

- Quite.
- Don't worry, sir.

You'll soon get the hang of it.

Mr. Gilbert,
new master for next term.

Show him in, please.

Mr. Foster.

Trouble with the alarm clock
again, sir?

Morning, boys.

Morning, sir.

Announcements.

The interhouse boat race
was won by Ironsides.

And we have to thank,

for the excellent
organization, Mr. Hunter.

Tomorrow, 2:00 PM,
cricket match.

Scarffenel boys
versus School First-11.

And tomorrow evening at 8:30 PM,

concert by Small Choir
from the library steps.

Now, Prize Giving on Friday

will be the earlier time
of 9:00 AM.

This is to enable Mr. Fletcher

to reach London in order
to join the NCC squad

in preparation for their match

against the Australians
at Lords.

Now, now, now, now, now.

There's no need,
no... to get overexcited.

There'll be tears
before bedtime.

Right.

Now, as you know,

Mr. Fletcher
is giving up teaching

to become a professional
cricketer.

Now, I'm sure
you want to wish him well

for the future at Prize Giving.

Now, you'll also want
to show your appreciation

to Mr. Crocker-Harris
on Friday.

Mr. Crocker-Harris

is resigning because
of ill health.

He's been with us for 18 years.

He's taking up less arduous
duties at another school,

and I'm sure we're all very,
very sorry to lose him.

And of course, we'll be sorry

to lose his wife, also.

She's been with us for
15 of those 18 years,

and, uh, she's endeared herself
to us all so much.

Now, hymn number 555,

"Lead Us Heavenly
Father, Lead Us."

Who do you think's the best
left-arm baller in the country?

- You are!
- You are!

Oh, no, really, come on.

Don't be ridiculous, come on.

Move. Make way for Mr. Harris.

I'll do it on the back.

Where would you like it?

Just over there?
All right.

Come on, sir,
it's the end of term, sir.

Oh, yes, sir.

- Please, sir.
- You promised.

I never promised.

I never make promises
to juvenile delinquents.

You did, sir.

You just want to see me
blow myself up,

don't you, you little monsters?

Frank.

No.

Excuse me, Frank. Good morning.

I still need the details of your
classes for next term.

Oh, right, uh, sorry, Andrew.

Um, could I get them
to you today?

I'd be obliged.

Just the final piece
of the jigsaw as it were.

Would 12:00 at my house
be convenient?

All right, listen.

One more experiment,
but if you let anybody know,

I'll have your heads,
you understand?

- Yeah!
- All right.

- You're like policemen.
- Sorry?

You get younger and younger.

Laura Crocker-Harris.

Tom Gilbert.

I'm taking over
from your husband.

I know, you're going to be head

of the new language department.

Andrew, my husband, was only
head of classical languages.

Um, could you do me a favor?

Of course.

Could you point to me
Mr. Frank Hunter?

I'll do better than that.
Follow me.

Laura.

Diana.

Are we still going into town?

Uh, darling, I'll be right back.

Ah, Laura.

I'm going to miss

your regular attendance
in morning prayers.

Well, thank you, Headmaster.

I shall miss it, too.

It's a nice way
to start the day.

And the library won't be
the same without you.

Well, well, well.

Tell me, how is Andrew
taking all this?

Well, I hope.

Yes, thank you, Headmaster.

He's, um, bearing up.

That's sad. Very sad.

Hey, Taplow, did you get

your switch to science?

I don't know.
I'm just going to ask.

You work in the library?

Oh, just two days a week.

Now, I have to seat parents.

I'd like you supervise
the sound system.

- All right.
- We need about 20 Tannoys and...

Good morning, Laura.

Hello, Laura.

Excuse me for interrupting.

This is, uh, Keith Rafferty,
head of sciences...

frightfully important...
and Frank Hunter.

Tom Gilbert.
Andrew's successor.

Hello. Hello.

Hello, the headmaster

asked me
to show you to your room.

If you don't mind.

No, not at all.

I hear you did a bit
of rowing up at Oxford.

Oh, God, another sportsman.

The head loves them
on the staff.

I'm waiting to see
who wins Wimbledon.

We'll need somebody to take over
from Frank in chemistry

when he goes back
to the colonies.

Well, we must keep
our bodies in shape, mustn't we?

Sir.

Um, I was wondering

if I could have a word with you.

Certainly not.

The bell's gone, it's too late.

That's right. Cut along.

Sir?

Cut along.

Frank, you don't say
"cut along" anymore.

Oh, we don't?
What... What do we say?

We say, "fuck off."

And remember,
don't bully the big boys.

Pick on the little ones,
it's safer.

Good luck.

Thank you.

I should say hello
to Mr. Crocker-Harris.

Oh, um...

Listen, you can talk
to him later, I mean,

we don't want to keep
the headmaster waiting.

- Okay.
- Come on, I'll show you

where you're sleeping.

Sir.

Do I disturb you, sir?

Perhaps.

I know the rules, sir,

but it's very important to me.

Have I...?

Have I got my switch
to upper fifth science, sir?

You have obtained
exactly what you deserve...

no less, and certainly no more.

And, Taplow,

I shall expect you at the house

for extra work at 12:15,
precisely.

What is it?

I'd fixed to play golf, sir.

Well, then you must
unfix it, mustn't you.

You missed an hour last week.

You can't expect me
to take money

from your father
under false pretenses.

He won't mind, sir.

I'm not sure I should take
your word for that, Taplow.

No, sir.

The point is that we mind,
don't we?

Yes, sir.

We mind.

12:15, extra work.

And you're an exchange,
I take it?

Yup.

Just finished my first year.
I'm here for three.

Do you like it?

Yeah, it's a great place
to teach.

You just feel the history,
the tradition.

They put me up here

when I first came
for my interview.

I didn't sleep a wink.

The beds also date back
to 1667, I think.

I'll be fine.

It's only for two nights.

Are you married?

Yes.

Kids?

Yes, two.
We'll all be here next term.

Have you found a place to stay?

Yes, we're taking
the Crocker-Harris house.

Oh.

Yes, most of our classrooms
are in this building.

Go on, there, there.

Up here, up here
is the upper fifth science,

where Mr. Hunter manufactures
foul-smelling concoctions

for his own perverted
branch of learning.

Well, not as perverted
as the classics.

Won't, uh, Mr. Gilbert
be teaching the boys

about rape and murder, incest?

Unworthy, Mr. Hunter.

If you knew more about
the classics, you scientists,

you might be less keen

to destroy this little
planet of ours.

Wasn't it Einstein who said,

"We don't understand
science properly"?

No, I believe he said, "We don't
know how to use it sensibly."

Have a nice day, Mr. Gilbert.

If only he had
a little more discipline.

Of course, he's an American,
you know.

Shit, he's coming.

Now, boys, Mr. Crocker-Harris is
not here yet?

No, sir.

Six minutes to go, yet, sir.

Ah, six minutes.

Hello, Watson.
How's your father?

Um, he's quite well,
thank you, sir.

But my name's Wilson, sir.

Wilson, is it really?

But your father's all right
just the same, is he?

Yes, thank you, sir.

He's quite dried out now.

Well, well.

Now, boys, this is Mr. Gilbert.

He's going to be the head
of our new languages department.

I trust those of you who will
remain in this class next term

will be as well behaved
with Mr. Gilbert

as I'm sure you were
with Mr. Crocker-Harris.

Good morning, boys.

It might interest you to sit in
on this period, Mister...

Mister...

Gilbert.

...Gilbert, yes... Mr. Gilbert,

and observe your future pupils
in action.

Yes, if I see him,
I'll warn him.

Thank you, sir.

Pay attention to Mr. Gilbert,
boys.

He doesn't take over his
official duties until next term,

but he can still report
your misdoings to me today.

I put 150 milliliters

of hydrogen peroxide solution
in this water bottle.

Biggles, had a nosebleed
this morning

and was kind enough
to donate this blood.

So we'll just mix this with
the hydrogen peroxide solution.

Biggles, what do we got
in this jar here?

Iron sulfate.

That's right.

Nick, could you tell me

the chemical formula
for iron sulfate?

FeSO4, sir.

That's very good.

Now, hang on.

Well... now this has never
happened before.

Um, boys, I think
you ought to just back off now.

What do you got
in your blood, Biggs?

Okay, boys,
what do you want to do next?

You there.
What do you want?

Piss off, Taplow.

All right, knock it off.

You tried to see me
this morning.

Yes, sir.

Well, why are you
following me around?

You with the CIA?

KGB? Ml-5?

No, sir, the lower fifth, sir.

Same thing.

What's your name, boy?

Taplow, sir.

I'll be in your class
next term if I get my switch.

This isn't next term.
This is this term.

Vamoose.

Get out of here.

Taplow.

What's the, uh, the chemical
formula for ethanol?

C2H5OH, sir.

Rouse! Get out of here!

Oy, Taplow.

You'll know.

What's up
with the Crock?

Why's he being forced
to retire?

There's nothing wrong with him.

The head just wanted

to give him the chop,
that's all.

I know exactly what it is.

One night...
first time for about ten years...

he had it away with his wife,
and it gave him a heart attack.

That's you, I should think.

No, it's not his heart.

If there's anything wrong
with him, it's probably piles.

Of course, it's piles.

It always gets 'em in the end.

Grow up, Buller.
It's not piles. It's his heart.

It can't be his heart.

He hasn't got one.

Right. Hitler's a sadist.

Cut it out, boys.
I'm not really interested.

It is his heart, sir.

I have extra lessons
with him.

Thank you.

Sadists don't have hearts
anyway.

Are you going to be running
special projects?

Yes, I believe so.

Well, the fact is, we both want
to start a magazine,

and you allocate
the funds, sir.

Mr. Crocker-Harris is
still in charge, isn't he?

So he should settle this.

Well, sir, you see,

Mr. Crocker-Harris always
says no to anything new.

I don't think
he does hate people.

I don't think
he likes people, either.

And he doesn't care
whether people like him.

Then I'd say he hasn't a care
in the world.

"You've obtained exactly
what you deserve...

no less, and certainly no more."

I think...
if he gave us a chance...

"...no less, and certainly..."

I think we'd quite like him.

And now, I won't tell you again.

The fact is...

I feel sorry for him.

Sorry for old Hitler?

You little ass crawler, Taplow!

Stop... Stop it now!

That's enough!

Good morning, sir.

I'm Gilbert.

Good morning.

Wilson.

Sir?

Apparently you were late
for chapel.

Just a few seconds.

I-I was in the library,

and you can't hear
the bell.

No doubt you will recount
those excuses

to your housemaster.

I fear I'm not interested
in them.

Sir.

These are your Latin verses.

Only one boy's efforts,
Bullers', had any merit

and that somewhat doubtful.

The rest were mainly abominable.

It seems to me that the best way

of employing the first part
of this period

would be for all of you
to attempt the verse again.

And if you should find
the disturbance

from the upper fifth science
too distracting,

you may console yourselves,
as good classicists,

with the thought that,
to amend an aphorism...

Taplow?

Yes, sir.

You laughed
at my little epigram.

Yes, sir.

I'm flattered
at the obvious advance

your Latin has made

that you should
so readily understand

what the rest
of the class did not.

Perhaps you would be good enough
to explain it to them

so that they can share
your pleasure.

Come along, Taplow.

Don't be so selfish

as to keep a good
joke to yourself.

Tell the others.

I didn't hear it properly, sir.

You didn't hear it?

Indeed. Then why,
may I ask, did you laugh?

Why did you laugh
at what you did not hear?

Politeness, sir.

I beg your pardon.

Politeness, sir.

Toujours la politesse.

I'm touched, Taplow.

But if you really wish
to show me politeness,

you will do so now

by translating verses
less appalling

than the ones I corrected
this morning.

Sit.

Sir.

Still feel sorry for him?

Finish now.

As this is the, uh...
last time

we shall meet as a class,

it may not be amiss
for me to say good-bye

and wish you all
the best of good fortune.

And now the end of term treat.

We will read a scene
from the Agamemnon by Aeschylus.

Agamemnon is perhaps
the greatest play ever written.

The scene I have selected
starts with Clytaemnestra

standing over the bodies
of Agamemnon her husband

and the prophetess Cassandra,

both of whom
she's just murdered.

Very well, Laughton, begin.

Uh, forgive me for interrupting,
but I have the impression

you understand nothing
of what you're reading.

No, sir. I...

Clytaemnestra has
just committed murder.

She is describing
her foul deed.

She's unrepentant.

Hmm?

Do you not think she would show
some emotion?

Well, of course, sir.
I was just...

I realize, Laughton,
that you may not have met a wife

who has destroyed her husband.

Nor perhaps had Aeschylus.

Nevertheless, he knew, alas,
that such wives do exist.

He used his imagination,
Laughton.

Imagination... a word I think
not in your vocabulary.

For example...

"I stand upon mine act.

Yea, where I struck."

Do you not think, uh,
in saying those words

she might reveal
a flash of, uh, cruelty

and of pride?

Hmm?

Defiant creature.

And then here...

"And I confess it,

"I did use such craft
he could not fly

nor fend him against death."

"I caught him in a net
as men catch fish.

"No room, no rathole
in his loopless robe.

"I struck him twice.

"And once and twice he groaned,
he doubled up his limb.

"And with that stroke,

committed him to Zeus
that keeps the dead."

Very well, you may leave.

Good-bye, sir.

Cheerio, sir.

Good-bye, sir.

Good-bye,
Mr. Crocker-Harris.

Thank you
very much, sir.

Good-bye, sir. Good luck.

Fa-la-la-la-la-la

Fa-la-la-la-la-la

In the winsome month of May...

Oy! Walk!

We've got to get him.

I don't know.
We'll get in trouble.

Come on, Taplow. Trubshaw's
always picking on you.

We could do it tomorrow.

Come on. It'll be a laugh.

It's the last day of term.

What can they do?

Thank you, sir.

I realize, of course,

you will not be putting
so much emphasis

on the study of Greek
and Latin.

Perhaps they may be
even dropped

from the curriculum,

or made optional extras.

My remit from the headmaster
is to organize

a new language department, sir.

That really means
modern languages.

I believe we need
a greater concentration

on German, French, Spanish.

It is, after all,
a multicultural society.

Ah, yes, yes...
the modern approach.

Not so many years ago,

the great passion
was to learn Russian.

Then came perestroika.

Russian wasn't trendy anymore.

Yes, well, thank you
for allowing me to observe.

Not at all.

Perhaps we shall see
each other later.

Hello. Anybody home?

Just me, sir.

Taplow.

You are following me around.

No. Sir. I've got extra work
with Mr. Crocker-Harris.

Uh-huh.

But he's not here yet.

And Mrs. Crocker-Harris?

Uh... no, she's
not here either.

What are you studying?

Aeschylus, sir. The Agamemnon.

Have you ever read it?

Well, no. I can't say
that I have. Is it any good?

Oh, um... well, as a matter
of fact, it is, really.

Yeah, well,
what's it about?

Lt... it's about a wife
who's unfaithful, and murders

her husband.

I get it. A comedy.

Say... say, listen,
did you get a chance

to talk to Mr. Crocker-Harris
about your transfer

to my science class?

Yes.

And?

What did he say?

What he always says
for everything.

Now, come on. What is it?

You have obtained exactly
what you deserve...

no less, and certainly no more.

Andrew? Andrew,

is that you?

Oh. What
a pleasant surprise.

Hi ya, Laura.

Didn't expect
to see you here.

Hello, Taplow.

Oh, Andrew asked me
to come by.

It's about my timetable
for next term.

Oh, and he's not here.

Well, it's not like Andrew
to be late, now, is it, Taplow?

No, Mrs. Crocker-Harris.

Well, excuse me, gentlemen.

I think I'll just go
put these things upstairs.

Do you think she heard?

Heard what?

Me impersonating...

Frank.

Oh, I, uh... I've got your
timetable here, Andrew.

Oh, excellent.

Just what I wanted.

Sorry I'm late, Taplow.

I'll just put these down.

Frank, we see you too rarely.

Hello, Laura.

Andrew, you were
late for Taplow.

I have apologized.

I do hope you're going

to be joining us
at the concert tomorrow evening.

Oh, yes. I'm looking
forward to it.

Taplow, why don't you go
and get the lemonade?

You know where
everything is.

Thank you,
Mrs. Crocker-Harris.

How have you been?

Frank, would you like

to see the timetable
for next term?

Yes, I'd like that
very much, Andrew.

Take that outside, Taplow.

We'll have our glass
in the garden

today.

Let's see.
There you are.

You've really done
a beautiful job, Andrew.

Well, thank you.
It has the merit

of clarity, I think.

I don't know what
we're going to do without you.

You'll find somebody
else, I expect.

Or, uh... perhaps
they'll buy a computer.

Say, what exactly
is this new job

of yours, Andrew?

Teaching English to foreigners.

Andrew's doctor believes

it will be less of a strain
than the lower fifth.

Well, I-I'm really sorry,
Andrew.

There's nothing
to be sorry about.

I'm looking forward
to the change.

See you later.

So long, Andrew.

Begin, Taplow.

"Oh, Clytemnestra,

we are surprised that..."

"We marvel at."

"We marvel at thy tongue...

Mm.

"...how bold thou art,
that thou can...

"Canst" is more poetic.

Canst.

"...canst utter such
a boastful speech..."

Mm.

"...over the, the bloody corpse
of the husband,

you've just so foully murdered."

Taplow, I presume you're using
a different text

to mine.

No, sir.

That's strange,
I see no

"foully murdered,"
no "bloody corpse."

Simply..."husband."

Yes, sir.

Why do you insist on inventing
words that are simply not there?

Go on, Taplow.

Go on, I wish to understand.

I was thinking
a bit like this, sir.

There she is, Clytemnestra,

she really hates
her husband Agamemnon.

He returns
from winning the war,

and what does she do?

She welcomes him back

and then murders him.

She stabs him over and over
and then makes a speech...

I'm, I'm delighted
in your interest

in the more lurid aspects

of dramaturgy, Taplow.

But I still fail
to understand

why you should wish
to improve Aeschylus.

Today in class, sir...

for the first time
I got a sense of the horror.

lt was so vivid.

I mean, why can't we put more
life into the translation, sir,

like you did?

Why can't we use words like,

like, "bloody" and "corpse"

and "murder?"

Hmm.

When I was a very young man,

not much older than you are now,

I wrote for
my own pleasure

a translation of the Agamemnon,

a very free translation,
I remember, in rhyming couplets.

That must have been hard work.

Yes, it was,
it was.

Very hard work.

But I derived great pleasure
from it,

because the play had excited
and moved me as it did you,

and I wanted
to communicate,

however imperfectly,

some of that emotion.

A little like what happened
in class today.

My translation,
I remember thinking

was very beautiful...

almost more beautiful
than the original.

Was it ever published?

I'm sorry?

Was it ever published?

Oh, no, no.

No, it was never published.

Shall I go on, sir?

Uh, no, I fear
we've run out of time.

Um...

may I go now, sir?

Yes.

And, Taplow...

"The art of learning

is to conceal learning."

And I wouldn't try it

on any of your friends.

It isn't particularly funny.

I wouldn't know, sir.

Turn that, turn that

ghastly noise down!

Off!

Now, Buller...

Where's Buller?

Your mother's
just telephoned.

She's awfully sorry,
but neither she nor your father

are going to be able
to get down here today.

She wants you to take
the train tomorrow.

Shrewsbury.

Then the chauffeur
will meet you at the station.

You all right, Buller?

Sir.

Good.

Keep the noise down.

I know it's hard,
Buller.

But you'll get used
to it, believe me.

Fuck off.

Good morning.

Morning.

Sleep well?

Yes, fine, thanks.

And you?

Yes, fine, thank you.

There you are.

Oh, there's a...

a letter for you.

Is everything all right?

Your mother all right?

Yes. Fine, fine.

Um... I forgot to cancel
the papers.

Do you need anything
from the village?

No, no, thank you.

Laura.

Were you expecting
someone else?

I thought we agreed that
we wouldn't meet here.

Who were
you expecting?

Gilbert, the new guy.

Laura...

come away from
the window please.

Would you please come
away from the window?

Aren't you going
to say hello?

I love you guilty.

It's the Puritan in you.

I love fucking you.

You talk when you make love.

Kettle, it's,
it's just boiling.

Which is more, apparently,
than we can say for you.

Laura, I haven't
got much time.

No, I don't think
I have either.

Tea?

Frank, you're more English
than the English.

Listen, if Gilbert does come,
let's just say you're here

delivering a message
from Andrew.

To hell with Gilbert.

I've got good news.

Oh?

What?

Don't worry,
I'm not pregnant.

I've had a letter
from my mother.

She's decided to visit
my sister in Canada.

So, I can have her cottage
in Dorset for the whole summer.

That's great.

Andrew starts
his new job in September,

but I don't have
to go there immediately.

That means you and I
can be alone together.

If you like.

Just think, darling...

whole months.

You will come, won't you?

Frank?

Frank... I need you.

I need to be with you.

You know my,
my father's not well.

I may have to go back
to the States.

God, you remind me of him.

Of who?

Of whom.

Of whom, of Andrew,
of course.

He didn't always used to be
the old Croc, you know.

He wasn't much older than you
are now when I first met him.

He was so pure, so...

so idealistic.

But just as ungiving.

What happened to him?

I did.

Weren't you two ever

happy together?

I can't remember.

Can't remember.

Laura, I...

I feel sorry for him.

No you don't.

You feel guilty because
you're screwing his wife.

Or to be more accurate,
because his wife

is screwing you.

I think we should tell him.

Tell him what?

About us.

What, are you insane?

That's the stupidest thing
I've ever heard.

And what the hell would you want

to tell him for, Laura?

What are we talking about now...
Marriage? Divorce?

I'm talking about us.

I don't want us to become
just good friends.

Listen, Laura...

Don't.

Deja vu.

I know exactly

what you're going to say now.

You're going to say

you're not ready
to settle down.

Isn't that what you
were going to say?

Anyone home?

Oh, yes, come in,

Headmaster.

Ah, Andrew, Andrew,
can't stay long.

Lovely day.

Beautiful, yes. Uh, would
you like to sit down?

Two things I wanted
to discuss with you.

Can I offer you tea
or anything?

Oh, no, don't
bother about tea.

You have enough to do.

Two most stressful things
in life... moving and divorce.

You know,

it's extremely unlucky...

ill health should have
forced your retirement.

Well, I felt that I could
have continued, Headmaster.

If you remember,
it was yourself

and the governors
who thought that my health...

Well, quite so, quite so.

I was going on to say
that it's unlucky

about your having to retire

before becoming
entitled to a pension.

You have decided
not to award me a pension.

Not I. Not I.

Lord Baxter and the governors

thought long and
hard about it.

They were felt

unable to, um...
make an exception.

But, uh...

exceptions have been made
in the past, have they not?

Ah. Richardson, you mean.

Well, those were

exceptional
circumstances.

After all,
it was in playing football,

staff against school,
he received his injury.

I understand.

The second thing I wanted...

Oh, Headmaster.

I was just leaving.

Oh, uh... well, can I
offer you a coffee

or... it's too early
for sherry, isn't it?

Oh, it's far
too early.

No, I'll leave you to it.
You're very busy.

Oh, Headmaster,

I've completed

the timetable.

It's hot.

Would you like to take

it with you?

Oh, thank you very much.

Thank you
very much, Andrew.

Oh, what do you make of your
successor, young Tom Gilbert?

He seems very agreeable.

Very agreeable.

High academic honors at Oxford.

Chancellor's Prize
for Latin verse.

Oh, Andrew got
that, too.

And a double First.

Of course you did.

Sometimes it's hard
to remember, you know,

but you must be one
of the most brilliant scholars

ever to come to this school.

You're very kind.

Oh, when I say

it's hard to remember,

it's because you've done
so many other good things.

You know, timetable,
your heroic battle

for so long with the soul-
destroying lower fifth.

Well, I haven't
found that my soul

has been destroyed by
the lower fifth, Headmaster.

Oh. Uh...

No, I was only joking.

I see, well...

Uh, what was
the, uh, other matter

you wished to discuss?

Oh, nothing,
nothing at all, Andrew.

And, uh, I was just saying,
Laura,

the two most stressing
things in life...

moving house and divorce.

Well, bad luck, Andrew

and, um, I'll see you later.

Bye-bye.

Good-bye, sir.

Well, do we get it?

Do we get what?

The pension.

Do we get the pension?

No.

What?

No.

Why not?

It's against the rules.

Well, Richardson got one.

Why couldn't they
give one to you?

It was special circumstances.

He received his
injuries playing soccer

for the staff
against the school.

And what did you say?

Just stood there

and made some joke
in Latin, I suppose.

There was very little
I could say

in Latin or any other language.

Oh, I would
have said something.

Don't you worry, I would have...

I'm sure you would.

I jolly well would.

Do you know
what you are, Andrew?

You're a wimp.

You always were

and you always will be...

a double first-class wimp.

You know, I think

I could have
forgiven you anything

if you'd have just once
said, "No. Enough,"

not just to me

but to every setback

you've ever had.

There was an old lady
of 82... Parlez-vous? Oh!

Out.

Out.

Go on, out.

Out! Out!

- Out!
- Out!

Not you, Taplow.

Stay there.

Out! Move it!

Come on.

You go to the Crock's house
for extra work, don't you?

Yeah.

Yes, Trubshaw.

Yes... Trubshaw.

Very good.

So what's the gossip, then?

I don't know, Trubshaw.

Well, word is,
Mrs. Crocker-Harris

is having it off with somebody.

Is that right?

I, I really
don't know, Trubshaw.

Oh, come on, Taplow...
I've seen you.

Nothing happens around here
without you knowing about it.

Who's she shagging?

Who is it?

Dr. Rafferty.

I've no idea, honestly.

Would you like
to give her one?

Have you ever
seen her tits?

I have.

She was in the library once.

She bent over.

No bra, nothing.

Gorgeous.

I bet you'd like
to put your face

between them, wouldn't you,
Taplow, you little wanker?

Your parents coming

down today?

No.

No?

Oh. Why not?

Oh. Your mother's
having it off

with somebody as well.

Word is, she's a good
fuck, your mother.

Is that right?

Huh?

Ah, Missus... Missus, uh...

- Missus...
- Wilson.

Wilson. How are you?

- I have a complaint.
- Oh, dear.

Ten spaghetti and one lettuce
leaf is not enough

for a growing boy.

Ludwig tells me
that's all he's had

for dinner for the past week.

- Ah, well...
- We pay enough in fees.

Please ensure
that he's properly fed.

I'll speak to the kitchens
about it.

Do excuse me,
won't you?

I don't believe in stuffing
the boys, you know, dear.

Ah, King Abakendi.

Do you know
he owns most of Nigeria?

Really?

Oh, Your Majesty,
how lovely to see you.

Dr. Frobisher.

Ah. You know my wife Jane.

Madam.
Of course.

And Lord Baxter, head
of Eurospace Industries,

chairman of our governors.

Yes, and, uh, Lady Baxter.

Delighted, delighted.

A chap from Nigeria
working for me...

head of the design
department.

I'm sure you know him.

Oh. What is
his name?

We are very fortunate
once again...

Oh, he's doing very well.

You know, he's doing
very well, this boy.

Marvelous job
he's doing, yes.

Now, Your Majesty, you know,
Lord Baxter and I would like

to discuss our proposed center
for Islamic...

What a lovely hat.

Thank you.

Lovely.

Opening the batting...

is their captain,
David Fletcher.

This will probably
be the last time

that we'll ever see David
playing amateur cricket,

as he goes to London tomorrow
to join the NCC.

I'm...

sorry, sir.

Oh. No, no.

It is I who should apologize.

After all, this is
your room now, not mine.

If you'll allow me

to continue with the chore
of packing.

I only came in here

because this room is
to become the center

of the new language block,

and, well, I didn't expect
anyone to be here.

I shan't be very long,
I promise you.

Please don't hurry, sir.

The fact is, this afternoon, uh,
I was feeling rather nervous.

You know, attack
of the jitters, and, uh,

I thought that
if I came in here

and rehearsed
taking a class or something,

it... it might calm me.

Um, I expect you'd laugh at me

for that.

Why would you expect that?

You keep such order.

I saw that
yesterday morning, and,

well, after all, they call you
the "Hitler of the Lower Fifth."

That was clumsy of me, sir.

I'm sure nothing's meant by it.

It-it's just that you...
you keep such wonderful

discipline, that's all.

The Hitler of the Lower Fifth.

They're, uh, not bad boys.

Sometimes a little wild
and unfeeling, perhaps,

but not bad.

In the beginning,
I tried very hard

to communicate some
of my own joy

in the great literature
of the past.

I failed...

as, of course, you will fail 999

times out of
a thousand.

But a single
success can atone

for all the failures
in the world

and sometimes...
very rarely, it's true...

sometimes, I had that success.

The Hitler of the Lower Fifth.

I'm desperately sorry.

Don't apologize.

I, uh, should have known
for myself

that I'm not only not liked,
but positively disliked.

I realized many
long years ago that the...

the boys no longer laughed
at me, but I...

I don't know why
they no longer found me funny.

Perhaps when
you became ill.

No.

No, I don't think so.

I really don't know.

In the earlier years,
they used to laugh at me.

At me, not with me.

At my... uh...

funny mannerisms
and tricks of speech,

which we all develop.

The Hitler
of the Lower Fifth.

I would have thought
that by now

that epithet would have lost
its significance.

Apparently not.

Undoubtedly...
it will become my epitaph.

I'm sure
they'll come up

with something
much worse for me.

Well...

I bequeath you this room.

I wish you
a great success in it.

I'll do my best, sir.

And good luck to you

in your future career.

My future career?

Yes. Thank you.

The, uh...

The boys do still call me
"The Crock," though, don't they?

And there's another four runs
to Fletcher.

Ah, Laura, Andrew.

Headmaster, Lord Baxter.

Good afternoon.

Uh, Lord Baxter and I
would like to ask you, uh...

have a little chat
with you, Andrew.

Uh, good time
for a word?

Well, the great thing
about cricket is

you can talk and watch
at the same time.

Precisely well put, Laura.

A little favor I have
to ask you, Andrew.

And what favor
would that be, Headmaster?

It concerns tomorrow's
Prize Giving.

I take it you're prepared
to say a few words?

Yeah. Well, I have, uh,
I have made a few notes.

Oh, well hit.

Well hit, Fletcher.

Good, good, good.

I know I can trust
your discretion,

not to mention your wit.

And I'm sure you'll
agree with me

that we don't want
these things

to become too long
and distressing.

Well, I have included a few, uh,
puns and jokes in my speech.

That would be
extremely acceptable.

Oh. Fine stroke, Fletcher.

Oh, yes.

Yes, that's good,
just the thing.

I-I also want to touch
on a matter of some gravity.

No doubt, no doubt.

Now, the favor I want
to ask you is this.

You see, Fletcher...

Fletcher is much, much
junior to you, of course,

and, uh, as such, his
speech would come first,

and yours last.

Absolutely.

But, uh, you know
how the boys feel about David.

They adore him.

They simply adore him.

Now, there could well be
a terrific display

of emotion tomorrow,

which would be difficult
for me to cut short.

Fletcher's simply racing

to his talent.

So, uh, do you wish me
to speak first?

Well, I feel wretched
about asking you this, Andrew.

I really do.

But, you know, a thing

that must come
to a proper climax.

You know, I'm sure
you'd agree with me there.

You understand,
don't you, Laura?

Well, naturally,
Headmaster,

I would not wish
to provide an anticlimax.

I'll speak first.

Don't take it amiss, Andrew.

Nothing personal.
Boys will be boys.

I mean, they'd
much rather applaud

the-the sportsman
than the scholar.

It's only natural.

But it's quite impersonal,
I promise you.

Well played, Tom!
Well played!

The possibility of a century
here for David Fletcher.

Laura?
Ah.

Yes, Diana.

Isn't Fletcher
batting superbly?

Oh, uh, just fantastic,
but I got to tell you,

every time he
hits the ball,

I think he's going
to drop the bat

and run to first base.

- Oh, really.
- Good heavens. He's 95.

This could be his 100th.

Oh.

Yes, that's 100 on Fletcher.

Tea, I think, everybody.
Before the rush.

Terrifically good idea.

I'd love some lemon.

Mmm. Tea and cakes?

You coming to tea?

I'd rather watch a little more
cricket if you don't mind.

Uh, Frank?

Could you escort
Laura to tea, please?

Sure.

Thank you.

Ladies and gentlemen,
as you know,

the school supports
many charities,

and some of the charities
that we do support

will have stands
in and around the chapel today

so that you can see
the sort of work

that the school is doing
with the money...

Sir?

Sir?

Uh, I'm sorry
to disturb you, sir,

but-but I did want to see.

Disturb me, indeed.

Well?

Um...

Well, Taplow?

I...

I thought this might
interest you, sir.

First translation

of the Agamemnon, sir.

Good heavens.

The Browning version.

I've glanced at it.

I don't think it's much good,

but...

I agree,
the translation has its faults,

but I think you'll enjoy it more

when you become
more familiar with the meter

that Robert Browning

employs.

Very interesting,

Taplow.

It... it's for you, sir.

For me?

Yes, sir.
I-I've written in it.

Did you... buy this?

Yes, sir. It's
only secondhand.

You shouldn't spend your
pocket money in that way.

That's all right.

It wasn't very much.

The price isn't still inside,
is it?

No.

Only what you wrote.

Nothing else.

What's the matter, sir?

Have I put the
accents wrong?

No.

The perispwmenon is
perfectly correct.

Oh...

Forgive me...

Taplow, I've...

I've been under rather a strain.

Yes, sir.

I understand.

Well...

...good-bye, sir.

And the best of luck.

That's tea!

Ladies and gentleman,

the umpire has called tea,

which will be taken
in the large dining marquee

near the entrance to the chapel.

Mr. Crocker-Harris.

Uh, excuse me, sir.

Do you remember us, sir?

Now, don't tell me,
don't tell me.

Wait a moment.

Trimmer, and you're Newton.

Yes, sir.

We just saw you there, sir,

thought we'd say hello, sir.

And what have you two
been up to?

I'm in

banking, sir.

Actually, I'm the managing
director of National Western.

Are you, indeed?

And I'm in the Army, sir.

Communications.

Communications, eh?

But not in classical Greek,
I fancy.

Well, actually, sir,
Newton's the youngest

brigadier
in the British Army.

Indeed? Congratulations.

Stand easy, Brigadier.

Oh.

Well, it's very nice
to see you both.

Yes, sir.

I see Fletcher got
his hundred, sir.

Oh, well,
it's only to be expected.

He's a superb player.

And-And quite, uh,

quite beautiful
to watch, isn't he?

Yes.

Well, continued
success to you.

- And to you, sir.
- Good luck, sir.

Sorry you're leaving.

God help me, I'm still
terrified of the old bugger.

Me, too.

Wonderful inning.
Special, Dave.

- Thank you, sir.
- Splendid.

Excuse me.

So, there I was in
my hotel corridor,

absolutely naked,
and no key.

I wish I'd been there.

Andrew, have a seat.

Oh, thank you.

- Thank you.
- Hello, Andrew.

You're looking pleased
with yourself.

What have you been up to?

That's a lot to ask, Laura.

Well, I'm looking pleased
with reason.

I think I've just
been given a present.

Oh, by whom?

- Taplow.
- Taplow?

That's fantastic. Hey.

So, what was the present?

Well, it's, uh, a translation
of The Agamemnon,

by, uh, by Robert Browning.

- Great.
- Let me see.

Oh, he's inscribed it.

What does it mean?

Darling...

what does it say?

Uh, it's, uh,
it's all Greek to me.

Mr. Gilbert,

can you enlighten us,
please?

Uh, how marvelous.

It's a hexameter.

Yes, but what does it mean?

Well, I'm not familiar

with th-the Browning version,

but, uh, roughly, uh,
it translates as:

"God from afar
looks graciously

upon a gentle master."

Oh, how sweet!

And very apt.

Can't imagine a boy
giving me a present.

Nor me.

A very wonderful thing to do,
don't you think?

- Yes.
- Yes, very much, so, yeah.

And he, he bought it
with his own pocket money.

What was the
inscription again?

"God from afar
looks graciously

upon a kind master."

Well, perhaps
not "kind master,"

but...

"gentle master."

Yes, I agree, uh,
with Mr. Gilbert.

I think "gentle"

is a better translation.

Uh, all right.

Uh, it's a lovely gift.

I would rather have
this present

than anything else
I could think of.

Cunning little brat.

Why cunning, Laura?

Andrew, you don't
have any wine.

Can I give you
some champagne?

Why cunning, Laura?

Because...

...yesterday, I saw Taplow
doing an impersonation of you

for Frank.

Well, obviously he was afraid
that I would tell you,

and that you would
put him on Cromwell's,

or stop his switch

to Frank's form,
or some other Hitlerian torture.

The book is clearly
an insurance policy...

a sweetener.

A bribe.

I see.

Laura, go and tell
him it was a lie.

Certainly not.

It wasn't a lie.

Then I'll tell him.

I wouldn't do
that if I were you.

He'll only hate you
for your sympathy.

Andrew doesn't need sympathy.

That's his strength.

Andrew?

I want to make something
clear about Taplow.

He has a genuine affection

for you.

Andrew, please believe me.

Well, I think you should
treasure that book.

I'd rather like to be left alone
at the moment, thank you.

You may find

that it'll...
have a special meaning to you.

Oh, yes, it will mean something.

It will remind me

of my own foolishness.

You don't deserve this.

I mean...

You've been
treated badly, sir.

By the school, you mean?

Not just by the school.

Never, never presume to know
the secrets of a marriage.

Take my advice... sir.

Make a new start for yourself.

You could
still find someone

who will care
for you, who'll...

who'll be loyal,
and who won't...

who'll... be faithful.

Ah.

Hmm.

We...

We were incompatible
from the moment we met.

Although... neither of us
realized that at the time.

Of course, Laura was, uh...

was only 22 years of age.

We both required love,
but of different kinds.

Worlds apart.

Worlds apart.

So, it's not really
very tragic...

or abnormal.

Just the problem of
a dissatisfied wife

and an inadequate husband.

Often, I believe,
a subject for Faust.

Is there anything I can do
to help you?

I'd like to help... you.

Yes. Don't take sides.

It's so very unbecoming.

Hey!

Did you see that, Andrew?

112 nut out, Fletcher,

and seven for 23.

Send out the schools.

Skittle them out.

Let me do that.

You left Taplow's present
behind.

I put it

in your study.

Thank you.

It wasn't a very good
impersonation.

I'm...

I'm sorry.

Laura.

We, uh...

we inhabit different
worlds, you and I.

We always have.

We always will.

What are you saying?

I'm saying "No."

I'm saying, "Enough."

Better not keep the headmaster
waiting.

Do you still expect me
to come to your Prize Giving?

I, uh...

I don't think either of us

has the right any longer

to expect anything
of the other.

Right.

Well, I'll leave

first thing tomorrow
morning then.

As you wish.

And does your new school

provide spending accommodation
for staff?

We haven't found anything
that we like yet.

I've read somewhere

the two worst things in life
are moving house and divorce.

So, Laura, if I
were you, I...

Oh, hello, darling.

Oh, hello, darling.

Well, I finished my rounds.

Do you know, I often think
being a headmaster's

like being a head waiter,
except head waiters

have to learn how to speak
at least five languages.

This isn't the best moment, sir,

but we're not staying
the night, so, um...

if ever you need
any financial advice,

uh, assistance in deed...

anything of that sort,
please telephone.

I'd like to help.

Think of it as, um...

well, as repayment.

Well, thank you very much.

This is extremely civil
of you.

Whoa.

- See you.
- Okay.

- I'll see you.
- Good night.

Shut it.
You'll get me in trouble.

What's going on?

It's all right.

- You all right, man?
- Yeah, yeah.

You little fucking bastards.

Yes!

Hello?

Anybody there?

Oh, Foster.

Sorry to disturb you, sir.

I've come to pick up
Mrs. Crocker-Harris.

Oh, yes, yes. She's upstairs.

Laura,

Mr. Foster's here.

I'm coming!

Glorious day.

Indeed, sir. Glorious.

Sorry to hear about your...

mother-in-law, sir.

Ah, yes, yes.

Must be a disappointment, sir.

Your wife... not being there
for your farewell speech.

And...

if I may be so bold, sir...

Well, what is it, Foster?

Well, I'd just
like to say

the old place won't be the same
without you, sir.

Well, thank you, Foster.

That's very kind of you.

Ah, hello, Foster.

Would you mind, uh...

there's a couple
of suitcases upstairs.

Thank you.

I think there's, uh,
just two more.

Well, I mustn't, uh, be late

for the Prize Giving.

No, eh...

You look very impressive.

Yes?

Good-bye.

Good-bye.

Ah, Andrew,

there you are.

Right, follow me, everyone.

Headmaster, I must tell you
I've changed my mind.

I, uh, wish to speak second,
as is my right.

What about Mr. Fletcher?

Mr. Fletcher will
have to speak first.

But you promised yesterday.

Yes, but I now
see the matter

in an entirely
different light,

and, uh, today's today.

Uh, we're ready
for you now...

Just a second, please,
Trubshaw.

Look, if you speak second...

It'll be the most dreadful
anticlimax.

Be that as it may,

as senior master it is
my privilege to so do.

We agreed yesterday.

All right, follow me,
everyone.

The DeMill Prize
for French studies:

S.R. Ryan.

The Torkson Prize
for Excellence:

S. Trubshaw.

The Hanson Cup

for Biology: E.R. Morris.

Ladies and gentlemen,

it is my painful duty
to listen with you

to a few sad words
from two masters

who are leaving us.

First, I shall call upon...

First, let us call upon

Mr. David Fletcher.

I thought you were
going to speak first.

Well, chaps...

I'm not much good, you know...

you know, on my feet,

except when I'm running
between the wickets.

So I'll just say

I'm really...

sad,

you know, to be leaving
this wonderful old place.

I've loved it here.

So, you know...

good luck and...

good-bye.

Now, three cheers
for David Fletcher!

Hip, hip...

Hooray!

Hip, hip...

Hooray!

Hip, hip...

Hooray!

And now...

Mr. Andrew Crocker-Harris.

Study of the classics,
in my view,

is a foundation

of our culture.

And culture is simply
an expression

of what is best in society.

Philosophy, decent government,
justice,

art, language.

Our classical heritage is
no longer valued.

And how can we help
meld civilized human beings...

if we no...

if we no longer believe

in civilization?

I am sorry.

I'm sorry because

I have deserved the epithet

"Hitler of the Lower Fifth."

I am sorry because I have failed
to give you

what it is your right
to demand of me as your teacher.

Sympathy,

encouragement,

humanity.

I have degraded the noblest
calling a man can follow...

the care and molding
of the young.

When I came to this school...

I still b-believed tha-that...

uh, that I...

I had a-a vocation for teaching.

I knew what I wanted to do,

and yet, I... I did not do it.

I can offer no excuses.

I have failed,

and miserably failed.

And I can only hope

that you can find it
in your hearts...

you and the countless others

who've gone before you...

to...

forgive me
for having let you down.

I shan't find it...

easy to forgive myself.

That is all.

Go on.

Sir?

Sir?

Taplow, boys.

Good-bye, sir.

Good-bye, Taplow.

Gentlemen.

Bye, sir.

Taplow?

Mm.

Well, it means

if you have any regard for me,

next term
you will kindly refrain

from blowing yourself up
when you switch to science.

Thank you, sir.

Yes! Well done, Taplow.

Thanks a lot.

Well done.

Well...

You'll miss your train.

I'll...

I'll write.